


Fine

by exactly13percent (superagentwolf)



Series: The AU Court [7]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Bottom Andrew Minyard, But Allison Style, Camping, Canon Compliant, Fire, M/M, Post-The King's Men, Smut, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 10:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15168488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superagentwolf/pseuds/exactly13percent
Summary: Andreil Week 2018|Day 4: mental health, vine/meme, felony-Neil thought it would end neatly with Riko's death and Ichirou's deal. His mistake.The Foxes take a vacation and Neil does several stupid things. But hey, it's not like he was alone. And at least he has an entire cabin just for him—and Andrew, of course.





	Fine

The really funny thing is, Neil thought it was over.

He thought they had tied everything neatly with a silk ribbon. He thought there was an understanding. He thought—

—he thought.

Things aren’t simple. They never are.

* * *

He always uses the same shower stall. It’s habit, from his days spent hiding from the rest of the team. Some things still haven’t changed, and they don’t really need to. This is one of those things.

Neil goes to the stall and stops with one foot in. His hesitation lasts a second, and then he draws his other foot in and draws the sheet closed behind him.

There is a fragile lotus on the floor.

He bends to touch it. The flower is dry and soft. Its petals are velvety under his fingertips.

This is not from Ichirou. This has Tetsuji written all over it.

Neil takes the flower in his hand and crushes it. He watches it fold in on itself with mild interest. When it’s small enough, he shoves it into the drain at his feet and watches the remnants disappear into the darkness as hot water falls on it.

He showers faster than he ever has before. When he comes out, scars on display and a towel at his waist, he thinks only about what he has to do. What comes next.

He’s not going to let Tetsuji lay a finger on his Foxes.

* * *

“This is a mistake, son.”

“Not really,” Neil says. He shrugs, but he knows Stuart can’t see him. “They’re still preoccupied with what I gave them. And I don’t make mistakes.”

Stuart snorts. “You’re a lot like her, you know.”

Neil’s hand tightens on the phone in his hand. He’s not stupid; it’s a burner. He’s standing in a park, a mile or so away from campus. It’s too early in the morning for anyone else to be out.

He had to give up the routine of his morning run to detour into the park and make the call. He’s not happy about it.

“I need a connection.”

“What for?”

“I’ve tied my loose ends. Unfortunately, there’s a rogue agent out to get me. He can’t get to me, but I know he can get to everyone around me.”

“Sound like you shouldn’t have anyone around you,” Stuart says. He doesn’t mean it the way Mary did. He sounds like he’s thinking.

Neil looks toward the sunset. He thinks about his usual morning routine—wake up, ask Andrew to come, go alone. Come home to find Andrew still asleep, waiting for Neil to join him for just an hour or two more.

He would do anything to keep that safe. To keep Andrew safe.

“Why don’t I go meet my uncle for the weekend? Nowhere far, but somewhere secret.”

“Somewhere safe for him. Maybe word gets out. He’ll come.”

“I’ll be ready. No one has to know.”

“Are you sure?” Stuart asks. For the first time, Neil wonders about his uncle. About what he was like with Mary.

Did he caution her, too? Did he ever warn her, when she wanted to run away with Nathan? Mary had gone from one crime family to the next. She had set her sights on a dangerous man, and when she’d started to care enough, she had run.

The running didn’t last long. It never did.

Neil wonders if it runs in the family. He really hopes it doesn’t.

“I’m sure.”

Stuart gives him the details while Neil runs. Fifteen minutes later, Neil rips his burner in half and tosses the pieces in opposite directions, toward traffic. He runs twice as fast to get back to Andrew, because he’s late and all he wants now is the comfort of their bed.

Theirs.

Neil gets home and takes barely three minutes to shower. He washes hastily and throws on clean underwear.

Before he goes into the bedroom, he looks at his reflection in the mirror. Takes in the blue eyes and red hair. He finds the scars on his face and traces the burn on his cheek with one finger.

This is his face. His.

Neil walks into the bedroom and almost stops breathing. He sees Andrew in bed, his chest bare and his eyes shut. His brow is furrowed at the crack of sunlight that escapes the bottom of the shades that cover the window. Neil stops to pull them straight before he rests his hand on the space beside Andrew on the mattress. He thinks about how he wouldn’t have tried this, not long ago.

“Lie down,” Andrew grumbles under his breath. Neil laughs quietly and climbs in beside him.

Fresh from the shower, Neil is a little cold. He burrows further under the blankets and closes his eyes.

For an hour, everything is silent and perfect. Neil closes his eyes and he is somewhere else. He is in a place where only Andrew matters, and the way he curls up against Neil’s side. The way Andrew’s chin rests on Neil’s shoulder and his hand comes up to rest against Neil’s chest.

Andrew’s first question is mumbled. “What is it?”

Neil knows what he means. His heart throbs a little in his chest and he turns toward Andrew. He pulls in tighter and looks over the top of Andrew’s head. “What?”

An exhale through the nose, like a sigh. “You didn’t ask, this morning.”

He didn’t. Neil realizes it the same moment he realizes Andrew noticed. Andrew noticed the change—and probably others—but he didn’t say anything. He let Neil have his run and shower and an hour with him.

“Sorry,” Neil says. He swallows.

He shivers, because Andrew’s fingers brush over his chest. They move in a little circle, and they make his skin feel electric. Neil feels burning at the touch.

“No,” Andrew says simply. “So?”

Neil worries at his lip. He doesn’t want to say anything. He doesn’t want to hide anything.

“My uncle. I—he wants to see me.”

Andrew’s hand tightens on Neil’s shoulder. It holds him down and next to Andrew. Neil feels eyelashes brush his skin. Andrew turns his head into the space between Neil’s neck and shoulder. He holds Neil stubbornly, like a child that won’t let go of the thing he loves most.

And if that doesn’t make it more painful, Neil doesn’t know what would.

“Will we go?”

We. “I will. He’s not—he was my mother’s brother. He wasn’t around. He doesn’t live in the country.”

Andrew doesn’t say, and? Neil hears the question anyway. He orders his thoughts while Andrew uncoils a little, to continue the circles on Neil’s skin.

“Stuart was in Baltimore.”

That changes things. Andrew shifts and then he’s pressed to Neil’s chest. His eyes are sharp and clear when he looks down at Neil. “How?”

“The FBI. He came to kill my father. I think maybe he still hoped my mother was alive,” Neil adds. “But it doesn’t matter.”

Andrew’s eyes say it matters. He’s quiet, though, and then he leans close. Neil can feel his breath on his lips. Just a whisper of a touch; a promise. Neil feels warm and he knows he’s probably blushing. He doesn’t care. He likes the way Andrew’s skin looks in the sunlight and the way his soft hair is a mess.

Neil waits. Andrew leans in to kiss him, a brief touch of lips. This early, Andrew’s lips are a little dry, but they’re warm. He gives only a little, but then he changes his mind or can’t hold back, because Andrew’s mouth opens and he slides it against Neil’s. His tongue presses against Neil’s lips and then Neil opens his mouth and flies somewhere north of heaven. He has no thoughts or cares, other than Andrew kissing him. Only the slow embrace that holds him in bed.

He reminds himself that this is what he has to lose. This is what he is fighting for.

Going doesn’t seem as painful, if he’s doing it for Andrew.

* * *

“That really a good idea?”

“You know, I’ve actually heard this already.”

Wymack stares him down. Neil doesn’t budge. He’s already tired from a full day of practice. His patience is wearing thin. The pleasantness he has for his Foxes is sapping away with all the energy he’s burned. He is a wick burned down to his acidic base.

“You know, we technically have a few reserved days for retreats. I’ve yet to be given a summer camp, but technically, we have time.”

Neil stares across the desk. “What?”

“I’ve been meaning to take the team somewhere,” Wymack says. He shrugs. “I know you all went to the mountains, before the finals. Where are you meeting?”

Neil presses his lips together. He wants to argue, but that would be suspicious. Maybe it’ll be better. anyway, he thinks, for the Foxes to be there. He won’t have to worry about traveling home, potentially looking like a mess. All he’ll have to think about is making it a few miles. Maybe even a few blocks.

“Lake Marion. I don’t want to bring a mess down on him.”

Wymack shakes his head. “You know, the FBI—”

“Went to him for help,” Neil says quietly. “He’s the only reason I didn’t lose my legs.”

That stops Wymack. He pauses with a hand at the edge of his desk. It curls tight around the wood and he looks somewhere…else. Neil waits.

“All right. There’s probably a resort or something we can book. Just—do us all a favor and don’t jump in front of any bullets, all right?”

“No promises,” Neil says. He means it as a joke, but Wymack looks tired when he shakes his head.

Two weeks to go.

* * *

“I’m going to meet my uncle. Wymack thinks you all need to go, for some reason, and be close.”

“’For some reason’, he says,” Nicky repeats. He rubs his face with his hands.

Neil doesn’t say anything else. Allison stares at him sharply, her legs crossed while she reclines in her desk chair. She has a red cup of something alcoholic at her wrist. “So, this uncle is into some shit?”

“Hey,” Matt starts, but Neil waves his reaction away.

“Yes,” he says. “But he was also in Baltimore.”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” Aaron says. He crosses his arms. “Your father was in Baltimore.”

Neil doesn’t like using the same excuse twice, but he’s starting to think it’s the only way he can defend Stuart.

He likes using it on the Foxes less, though.

“Stuart came in before my father could break my ankles with a fire axe,” Neil says. He pauses. “At least, I think it was a fire axe. I didn’t really look too long.”

Maybe he should have planned better. Matt looks pale and Nicky chokes on whatever he was going to say. Dan looks disturbed and she reflexively glances at his ankles, like she’s checking to make sure he isn’t lying about not being hurt.

Andrew’s hand curls around his wrist and Neil is startled. It’s not a touch he’s used to. This is not Andrew offering comfort; this is Andrew taking some. His touch reminds him that Neil is there, or so Neil assumes.

“Anyway, I’m going to meet him,” Neil says uneasily. He wants to move on from this. From collateral damage. “I don’t need anyone there, but Coach isn’t going to back down. Just…don’t worry.”

Easier said than done.

* * *

“Oh, shit,” Nicky says. He stares up at the cabins, which are very ineptly named.

They look like designer apartments. There’s a curved half-moon of buildings; a small one is at the end, followed by two medium-sized ones and then a fourth, larger one. The buildings are all connected by a walkway, and inside the half-moon is a huge pool and two hot tubs. The buildings have large glass windows and perfectly-painted white exteriors. Even from the outside, Neil knows they’re the kinds of places that would make him uncomfortable to leave a mark.

Allison shrugs. “Neil gets the end one. Matt and Dan get the next. Everyone else takes what they want.”

No one questions her choice. No one questions when Andrew follows Neil to the smallest building at the end, either.

It is too nice inside. The place looks exactly like an apartment; there’s a studio space with a small table and sofa. The right side is occupied by a room with a large bed. Neil dumps his one bag in the room and then he stares at the bed. He’s tempted to take a nap.

Andrew pokes his back. Neil is startled, but he lets the touch guide him onto the sheets. They smell good—like something woodsy.

“Quiet,” Andrew says. Neil can’t decipher if it’s an observation or a command, so he just hums in agreement.

It’s a nice place.

* * *

The team has dinner in the largest apartment that night. It’s two stories and the kitchen is big and white. Neil spends most of the time thinking about how he’s going to have to leave in the morning and hope he comes back in one mostly-unmarked piece.

When he walks back to his room, Andrew holds his hand.

It’s a lazy tangle of fingers that is too casual to be casual. Neil doesn’t say anything about it because he doesn’t need to. He only thinks about how much it aches that Andrew is making this move, right before Neil is about to do something stupid. Before he’s going to tempt fate.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Neil says. They’re standing by the bed and he watches Andrew pause in the middle of taking his shirt off. The black fabric descends again and Andrew shifts on his feet to face Neil.

“You are going to say what you want. Then we are going to leave.”

Neil wants to laugh. He wants to say he wishes things were that simple. Instead, he says, “I can’t let you come with me.”

Andrew’s jaw twitches.

“Someone is going with you.”

“N—”

“I am not leaving you alone,” Andrew says, quiet and deliberate. He takes a step closer. “We are not leaving you alone.”

“I’m not alone,” Neil says. He smiles a little and wonders if it looks right. “I’m never alone.”

He traces a line up the bands on Andrew’s arms. The ones that match his, or the other way around, or neither. Andrew watches the movement with a distant expression that says he’s thinking. He is thinking and maybe remembering, but not lost.

Not so long as he has Neil.

“No,” Andrew says. “You’re not.”

Andrew leans closer. He stops with his mouth just a centimeter away, his breath ghosting across Neil’s lips. “Tell me.”

“I’ll say what I want,” Neil says. It’s like a magic spell. His hands move on their own, to hold Andrew’s face. “And then I’ll come back. To you.”

“Yes.”

It’s enough. It’s more than enough.

Neil kisses Andrew. He still tastes like lemonade and salt, but Neil doesn’t care. He cares about the way Andrew opens up to him and the way he pushes into every touch, maybe to reassure Neil that it’s right or maybe because he can’t help himself. Maybe both.

This shirt is still uneven. Neil runs his fingers along the exposed skin at Andrew’s waist and feels the shiver beneath them. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Andrew says. Again and again. He lets Neil pull the shirt off and then does the same for Neil. He says yes to every pause over every piece of clothing.

He says yes, and then they are both undressed and the empty room seems much warmer. They are alone—truly alone—for the first time Neil can remember. There is no one just below or just next door, and the cabin is locked. No one is going to come in.

Andrew’s hands travel over Neil’s hips. He is contemplating something.

“I want you,” Andrew finally says.

It’s three simple words, but there is nothing simple about them. There has never been anything simple about Andrew and Neil, besides the fact that they can’t stand to untangle themselves. They are too far intertwined; too much a part of each other.

“Are you sure?” Neil asks. His mouth is dry. He has a hundred questions—why, what changed, why now?

Andrew’s fingers skate across bare skin. He draws invisible routes from point to point. “Yes.”

Neil nods once. “Tell me what to do.”

Andrew guides him toward the bed. He kisses Neil as he goes, maybe because it’s comforting and also because—as much as he’ll never admit it—Andrew likes the kisses just as much as Neil. It’s almost enough to make Neil forget what he is going to do, but it isn’t enough. Nothing could ever be enough to tear him away when Andrew is kissing him and his hands are moving over every inch of skin like it’s never been scarred.

“Lie down,” Andrew tells him. Neil breaks away only long enough to obey, and then he’s on his elbows to try and meet Andrew’s lips again.

This isn’t unfamiliar, except usually, they’re both still clothed. Andrew has been on top of Neil countless times. Neil remembers the first, when his hands held Neil’s wrists to the floor and there was the taste of ice cream on his tongue.

God. He’s not sure how long he can keep his thoughts straight.

Andrew’s legs slide into place on either side of Neil, but there is a new sensation. His cock is pressed firmly against Neil’s stomach and it’s a burning heat that makes things very clear. Neil isn’t sure whether to cry because he’s being trusted with this, or to smile because Andrew is showing him how much he wants what he’s asking for.

Neil lets Andrew kiss him, hands resting on the side of his face, and waits. He doesn’t mind direction and they have all the time they need.

Andrew pulls back for just a moment. He’s already flushed and Neil wishes he could take a picture to look at every minute of the day. “You can touch, but don’t push or pull.”

“Okay,” Neil says. He’s surprised he can get the word out. He does, though, and then more. “Do you want me to help? With—”

“Yes,” Andrew says. He leans down to press a quick kiss to Neil’s lips, and then he pulls back and reaches for his bag on the floor.

Neil doesn’t know what to say about that. He settles for a short laugh when Andrew comes back with what they need. Andrew raises an eyebrow and withholds the bottle. “I could just—”

“No,” Neil says. He laughs one more time and then schools his features. “I’ll do it.”

Andrew gives him the lube and Neil takes the time to warm it. His eyes rove over Andrew’s body and he wonders why he feels so much when he looks at Andrew. Why he feels so much when he thinks of him—why he feels so much at all.

He’d never take anything else, though.

Neil waits for Andrew to lean forward and then he waits for the yes. When it comes, he gently circles with a finger. He waits to push until Andrew starts biting his neck impatiently. It’s an easy slide, and then Neil works in another. He stretches Andrew as slowly as he dares, because Andrew’s hips press into him and Neil can feel the heat trapped between their bodies.

Andrew is very quiet, even with Neil’s hand at his ass. He only mutters a half-formed curse every now and then, and the words are so quiet they almost disappear. Neil lets them echo in his head and wishes he could record them.

“Fuck,” Andrew gasps. Neil smiles to himself and moves against the same spot. He likes the growl in Andrew’s voice, like he’s going to fight Neil over how good it feels.

Andrew rocks against him and Neil knows it’s unintentional by the surprised hitch of breath that puffs against his neck. Neil stops. “Okay?”

“Yes,” Andrew manages. He growls the word through his teeth. “I need—can—”

“Yes.”

Neil doesn’t know why his heart is in his throat, but it is. He could probably choke on it if he moved wrong. Andrew pulls back and Neil feels the stick of their skin as they part.

He is not sure how he’s going to survive Andrew on top of him. He’s not sure he’s going to survive, at all.

Andrew reaches behind him and Neil bites on a groan at the hand that strokes him. He feels the itch to move creep up his spine and he fights it. He instead directs his mind somewhere else. “Do you need a—a—”

“No,” Andrew murmurs. His eyes are half-lidded and hazy. “I want to feel you.”

Neil can’t physically answer. There is too much happening and then he feels Andrew move.

He couldn’t have expected it. Andrew lowers himself just an inch and Neil feels his cock start to disappear, followed by the heat and pressure of Andrew around him. It’s not the same as Andrew’s hand on him in the shower, and it’s not better or worse. It’s different, and it’s amazing.

Neil does the only thing he can. He moves one hand to Andrew’s chest and the other to the red tip of his cock, where it rests against his stomach. He moves his thumb in a circle over the head, just enough to tease. Neil doesn’t expect the way Andrew groans or the way he flexes around Neil, suddenly sliding all the way down until there’s no space left between them.

Andrew’s breaths are heavy and ragged in the silent room. Neil feels a fog in his mind and he can’t think of what to say next. He settles for what he knows and asks, “Okay?”

“Better,” Andrew says. His voice is a gasp, less like words and more like a sound. He leans forward and Neil watches his arms take his weight, the muscles beneath the skin moving.

Andrew starts to move and Neil can’t form a cohesive thought. All he knows are the fragmented sensations of heat and tightness. The slide of Andrew moving against him at a steady pace does everything to push him further away from the world and further into Andrew.

Neil barely touches Andrew, but he can feel how close he is. Neil traces a hand over Andrew’s collarbone and thinks he’s in love with the shine of the moonlight on it, blue-silver and bright. He curves his hand around Andrew’s jaw and holds his face, because Neil loves looking at him as much as he likes touching.

For some reason, the one word that Neil can get out—the one thing he says, while he feels the tension build beneath his stomach, is, “Beautiful.”

Andrew’s eyes widen a little. The red on his face darkens and he suddenly leans forward. Neil is too surprised to anything other than wait for Andrew to kiss him. It’s a clash of tongue and teeth, too messy to be planned, but it’s perfect.

Everything about Andrew is perfect.

Andrew moves faster and then Neil is holding his arms, his breath thin in his chest. He knows he needs to say something, but it’s so damn hard that all he gets out is pieces. “And—Andrew, I—”

Neil just watches Andrew lean close, a gasp escaping his mouth as he says, “Come.”

He does. Neil feels everything washed out by a wave of white-hot heat, and then he’s crying out in a voice he doesn’t recognize as his own. He feels Andrew tighten around him and then the warmth beneath his hand as Andrew shudders through his orgasm. He rocks on Neil for just a moment longer, nails scraping against Neil’s chest.

The aftermath leaves Neil feeling curiously sensitive. He’s never felt this rawness, but he thinks he likes it. Andrew moves off him slowly and Neil takes care not to move or touch. He waits until Andrew curls beside him, a mess of sweaty limbs and red skin.

“Okay?” Neil whispers.

“Yes. Better.”

* * *

He wakes early to go meet Stuart’s contact.

Andrew is gone.

Neil stops by the main cabin, partly because he wants food and partly because he’s curious. Andrew doesn’t wake up early, and he definitely doesn’t leave Neil alone in the morning.

He’s not in the main cabin. Renee is up, though, along with Kevin. They’re eating eggs. Neil grabs an apple and then asks, “Has Andrew come in yet?”

“No,” Renee says. “He’s not still asleep?”

Neil shrugs. “He had something to do.”

It’s not the truth, exactly. It’s a guess. Neil has an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and he leaves with the apple that he doesn’t eat. Instead, he walks down the nearby trail and heads out of the campgrounds.

He crosses the main road a mile away from the cabins. In the opposite direction of the resort is more of the nature preserve, where there is nothing but trees and untouched land. Neil works his way deeper and picks up the pace when he checks the time on his phone. He has twenty minutes.

Neil runs. He starts to run faster when he smells smoke.

His only thought is that he really shouldn’t have trusted Kengo, or Stuart’s contact. Of course, this would happen. Of course, he would be facing the worst.

There’s a cabin by the river. It’s an actual cabin, with a rickety build that someone would probably call ‘quaint’. Neil calls it a death trap.

It’s also smoking, and there are the telltale signs of a fire starting to burn.

Neil runs to the front of the cabin. He knows only that he has to figure out what the hell is going on. He thinks back to the phone call with Stuart, and then the one that he selectively blocked from his memory.

The one he made to Ichirou.

Neil doesn’t have time to think any more. He throws the front door open and runs in. There’s smoke coming from the upstairs floor. The downstairs fireplace has a fire, but there’s also one on the couch.

“Andrew!”

The door fucking slams behind him.

It slams and Neil turns to look. He can’t see anyone inside, and he suspects he knows what will happen if he tries to open it. Neil turns to the table and sees an envelope.

He sits at the table and presses his palms to it for a moment.

“This is fine.”

He says it and pretends he believes it. There’s probably a window, somewhere, for him to get out of the cabin. For now, he opens the envelope and looks at the contents.

It’s a lot of flowery words and bullshit that add up to Tetsuji saying he isn’t going to forgive Neil’s meddling. It would be pathetic, if Neil weren’t currently in a cabin that’s on fire.

Neil gets up from the table and is extremely tempted to feed the letter to a nearby fire. Instead, he covers his nose with his shirt and looks for a way out. The windows are all conveniently covered and they don’t open. It doesn’t take long for him to hear faraway sirens, but his eyes are also watering and he’s starting to think the smoke is going to kill him before he has a chance to burn alive.

There’s really only one option.

Neil goes to the second floor and finds a window. The heat has made it weak, so he takes a nearby chair and throws it at the glass. The window shatters and he kicks at the wooden boards that cover it. He barely finishes making a hole before the heat becomes unbearable.

Here goes nothing, he thinks, and then he climbs out. It’s hard to hang onto the windowsill, especially with glass and fire doing its best to make him wish he wasn’t. Neil hangs there and tries to find a way down that isn’t going to immediately kill him. He settles for shuffling to his right, where there’s a bush just beneath him.

He lets go and hopes he doesn’t break a leg. Kevin would kill him.

Neil rolls with the impact. The stupid fucking bush helps, even if he feels it scratching him to shit. He manages to get upright after a few seconds of ensuring nothing is broken, and then he starts to run.

It’s probably a bad idea to run, but he has a clear concept of what’s happening. He doesn’t have much time.

Neil sprints most of the way. He passes the fire truck and tries not to roll his eyes. The cabins loom in the distance and he puts on speed just before he gets there. He sees someone lurking near his cabin and he slides to a halt at the back of the building.

“Jumped the gun a bit,” Neil says.

The man jumps. He looks back at Neil, exasperated. There’s strain in his voice when he says, “Yeah. I dodged a fuckin’ bullet, is what I did.”

“Where is he?”

“Looking for your friends.”

“Where are they?”

“Most of them are at the lake.”

“Most?” Neil repeats.

The man shrugs. “There are two inside. Your coach, I’m guessing, and some guy with a thing on his face.”

Kevin. Neil doesn’t know why the hell Kevin isn’t with the others, but he does know he’s going to chew him out. He also wonders why Andrew isn’t with him and assumes it’s because Wymack is.

Maybe they’re having awkward bonding time.

It doesn’t matter. Neil sighs and digs his fingers under the band on his left arm. He pulls the knife out and crouches. “All right. Well, I need to make a call. Think you can hold my phone and video for me when I go in?”

“Do I need to be seen?”

“Not if you can make it work.”

“Good,” the man says. He shakes his head. “I’m not getting paid enough for this.”

“Yes, you are.”

Neil dials the number and holds his breath. He waits for Ichirou’s familiar voice.

“Speak.”

“Your…uncle has committed a felony,” Neil says carefully. “I am not sure if he was messy with evidence. There are firemen on the scene. I confiscated the one piece of evidence I could find in time. He is poised to threaten Wymack and Kevin. Do you require video?”

Silence. Neil really, really hopes Ichirou is going to discipline his uncle. He would pay to see that. He would pay a lot.

“Yes. Send it. Someone will collect it and him within the hour. And,” Ichirou adds, the emphasis on the word dark, “Do not mark him.”

“I understand, Lord Moriyama.”

“Good.”

The line goes dead.

Neil hands his phone to the man beside him and sighs. “I guess I can’t have too much fun. Ready?”

The man snorts and Neil takes it as a yes. He goes to the front door and lets himself in without caution. He doesn’t need it; he has the other Moriyama. The one that matters.

Tetsuji rounds on his heel. His face is a mask of rage and then they both hear Kevin and Wymack start to walk around the corner.

“Whoops,” Neil says.

“What—” Kevin starts to say, but then Tetsuji moves and Neil can’t concentrate on anything but staying alive.

Tetsuji is the Master for a reason. He might not be young, but he has years of experience. Neil can only keep up enough to move away from Tetsuji and his blade every time it comes for him. He hears Wymack curse nearby and Kevin come running.

“Not marked!” Neil yells. He knows Kevin will understand.

Kevin takes a racquet from the other side of the wall—the living room, Neil thinks—and slams it into Tetsuji's back. Neil really hopes it hurts, even if he knows it won’t leave a mark. Tetsuji growls and turns on his heel, but Neil throws himself onto the man’s back. He has him in a chokehold immediately.

The problem is that it’s too easy for Tetsuji to slam back against a wall. Neil feels the pressure in his chest—a warning, so far—and then he is watching Wymack start to move.

Tetsuji does the only thing he can. He decides that, faced with the mess of dealing with Ichirou or giving up, he would rather not give up. He reaches for the gun in his jacket and points it at Wymack.

“No!” Kevin yells. He moves and Wymack yells, too—refusal, probably—before Neil barely gets a leg up and wrenches Tetsuji’s arm down.

Neil doesn’t have much strength, but he interrupts things long enough for a shot to hit the floor. He wraps his arms tighter around Tetsuji’s neck and the cutoff finally hits. The man goes down without oxygen and Neil is crushed halfway beneath his body.

For a moment, they’re all frozen in place.

“Fuck,” Neil groans softly. Kevin jerks into action; he kicks the gun away and hauls Tetsuji over without a second glance.

“What happened? Why do you smell like smoke? Is that—”

“Cabin on fire,” Neil says, by way of explanation. Kevin just stares at him like he’s crazy.

Which is understandable.

Neil is about to explain the pickup, but then he hears voices and the door just five feet away opens to reveal the Foxes. They come in laughing and then they freeze in assorted positions, barely making it halfway into the living room before they see the mess.

“What the fuck,” Nicky says loudly.

Andrew shoves to the front. His eye might twitch when he sees Neil and he says, “I left for one hour. One.”

“Sorry,” Neil says, but he’s smiling. He’s alive, things are fine—he fucking hopes—and they’re all on vacation together.

Neil gets to his feet and looks down at Kengo for a long moment. Kevin reaches for him, maybe thinking Neil is spiraling, but Neil just pulls his foot back and kicks Tetsuji in the stomach with all the momentum he has.

“Oh, my God,” Wymack says weakly. His hands cover his face and Neil shrugs apologetically.

“He ruined our vacation,” Neil says. “Daycare is coming to pick him up in the next half-hour. Think I can get us money out of it?”

“Please don’t try,” Matt says. “I like you alive and whole. I like me alive and whole.”

Neil just laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> I just thought about that meme with the dog in a house on fire saying 'this is fine' and I was like?? Is that not? Neil???  
> Anyway I hope you enjoy, this was certainly a trip to write.
> 
> *EDIT EDIT: People pointed out I mcfucking meSsEd UP and switched tesuji and kengo's names by accident FUCk mE


End file.
